The Mischievous Green-Eyed Brat
by BehindTheMasqueradeMask
Summary: I was just walking to school, normal boring school. Now, I'm with a top secret Agency that defends the Earth against alien threats...oh...and I'm babysitting the god of mischief after a spell went wrong and turned him into a twelve year old. I never thought I would say this, but exams sound more promising than chasing after a brat with a spell book. Kid!Loki AU Male OC.
1. How Do You Start?

**I got bored. I wanted to write a Kid!Loki fanfic. This is what happened.**

**This is just a test as it's a different writing style from what I usually write, this being from the ocs point of view but of him writing it down on a computer, a little confusing but hopefully the writing isn't too bad.**

**i have more chapters written but I'm going to wait on the feedback on this introduction first, so tell me if you would like to see me.**

**ive not written from a make OCs perspective before, but I wanted a change, and this was the perfect chance for it.**

**disclaimer: I only own ocs**

**with that done, on with the chapter...**

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How do I start this?

I mean, how do you start to explain your life? Celebrities do it all the time, but they know people will read it so they make it more dramatic and well thought out to feed their fans. Me, the only fans I have is my Dad and perhaps Fitz and Simmons, but they probably won't want to read this, who would?

I'm just a fifteen year old kid who a year ago got dragged into the super high tech secret agency known as S.H.I.E.L.D, and by the way, I'm a _guy_, so if any fan girls are somehow reading this expecting a teenage girl to crush on Loki or Hawkeye, you've been mistaken, both of them are on my kill list if the zombie apocalypse ever happens. Just to make it clear.

So this is a story or analysis of hell (take your pick) about me, Alex Joshua Moore. At school I had people nicknaming me Cas, I don't why, I think some girls said that I looked like a young Misha Collins, whoever that was, and so the name got stuck but everyone normally just calls me Alex anyway.

I better start with who I am before I even begin to write down what happened. I'm the typical computer nerd with a fixation on rock bands, everyone calling me names like 'four eyes' (even though I don't even wear glasses -_-) or 'wimp'...I didn't care, all the names meant nothing, just a few cruel words said by people who thought they knew it all.

Basic description of me would likely be that I'm fourteen as already established, but my height is slightly more than average, around eighty inches. I'm not exactly the athletic type, but I'm not a couch potato. No way am I typing my actual weight, not with the likes of Tony getting his hands on this, he'd purposely never let me hear the end of it.

And I do mean Tony Stark, the billionaire, playboy, philanthropist himself...long story on how I know him, but you'll be reading about it anyway.

I'm perhaps kind of classed as overweight, but that's only because being a skeleton is healthy according to the media, in reality I'm likely only a little pudgy. I've got light brown hair which could be a dark blonde, I don't know, I'm mixed apparently, which doesn't really work with the olive skin, but then again I get it from my dad and nothing really worked out well for him.

As a side note:

Daddy issues galore!

Hoodies and baggy trousers are usually my casual clothes, sometimes stretching to three quarter lengths and a T-shirt if it's really hot and stuffy, which is the perfect description for the Helicarrier. Any rock band t-shirts I throw on, AC/DC, Green Day, Nirvana, Three Days Grace, you get the idea. No superpowers or high tech gadgets for me, just the basic pepper spray and my feet (obviously kicking is the best way to fight, to me anyway) are the only weapons I need.

But if I and to say it, my secret weapon would have to be a simple computer. I'm not the stereotypical nerdy guy who can hack into anything, I'm good don't get me wrong, but I've not even tried to hack into anything bigger than Stark Tower, and JARVIS quickly kicked my ass out anyway.

So now you have the gist of what I look like, what I like, now's the fun part. The actual story. Or diary, but seeing as my writing is equivalent of a four year old, I'm typing on my trusty laptop.

If anyone will ever read this, this is about how I started as a normal computer nerd with my highest goal being to leave school with grades that could get me a job at a tech shop, but of course, I would just hack into the system and change them myself. But none of that even mattered was I _bumped _into the God of Mischief, that sounds surreal, but it's true, because now I spend most of my time babysitting the little shit.

But that's enough about now, time for how it started. It just started as a normal day turn strange, but when I think over all the stuff that's happened, that day would count as just normal, normal compared to the life I lead now.

It was the fourth of June, a couple of weeks and it would be the summer break where I planned to do nothing, but it didn't go to plan, hell any of my plans didn't go to plan. My mom had attempted to get me up for school, to which as you probably guessed from the quick data file I just wrote, I did not want to get up.

If only I'd stayed in bed a tiny bit longer, or ate my breakfast a bit quicker, than I probably would not be typing this up in my room on the Helicarrier surrounded by The Avengers and agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. But honestly I can't complain, well anymore than usual, it's not everyday you suddenly get pulled into a top secret agency because you talked to a mini Demi-god. Shame said Demi-god was a little brat.

Welcome to my life.

~ Signed Alex Moore

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**Thats the introduction done, hope you liked it, and can't wait to upload the next one if you like it. Until then.**

**~Gothgirlstrikesagain **


	2. 4th June 2014

**Wow, thank you so much!**

**I did not expect such a quick response, and because you requested more here it is.**

**Thank you to guest, HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEY and LoveYourself845 for the reviews.**

**I am going to add characters from Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D but it's an AU and won't follow the episodes, because every episode after turn,turn,turn. No. Just no. I'm not spoiling anything, but I'm so addicted but annoyed at the same time, it's been a while since a TV show or film has done that to me.**

**a friend recently introduced me to the anime black butler, I was unsure before I watched it, now, its so cool!**

**okay, that's it for now.**

**with that done, on with the chapter...**

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**Nothing Out Of The Ordinary**

"Alex! Time to get up for school!" My mom's voice called, knocking on the door covered with band posters and a lovely 'get out!' red sign being the most prominent. I groaned from under the cocoon of my bed sheets, one leg poking out and hanging over the edge of the bed, the mangled mass of a fourteen year old grumbling as the light rays burned against my light olive skin.

"Alex I won't tell you again!" My mom shouted a little louder, another round of knocks that made a migraine appear between my eyes. Sharp. With one lazy tug, I lifted my body up slightly, brown clumps of hair falling over my face, only the scolding light managing to get past the veil.

"I'm movin'." I grumbled, rubbing crusted sleep out of my eyes as I stumbled out of bed, attempting to grab my clothes which had been left in a clump on the floor. I hated this crap, it was too early, lessons were a bore, not many people even liked me. What was the point except for an education I didn't even want? if it was up to me, I'd just get a job at the local tech shop, they'd take me on when I reached sixteen, I knew the owners like family anyway.

Okay, maybe I was being a little OTT, not everything about Midtown High School was bad...except maybe the fact that bullies were around every corner and last year it nearly got destroyed by a giant lizard and was then saved by a new hero named Spider-man.

Nothing out of the ordinary.

The only lesson I liked was IT, and that was only because I wanted to learn how to hack and use it to get into systems bigger than the school's basic one, I could quite easily change my final grades to a level better than all Fs. Come on! That's the only reason anyone ever pays attention in IT anyway.

I would say science as well, but bad things happen to scientists, _bad_. Especially after the whole Dr Connors as a giant lizard last year, I don't think anyone wants to take science, well except maybe the already mad scientists of the future.

If living in New York since I was four has taught me anything, don't whatever you do walk into the road just because the lights have changed, they won't stop, and if you value your life...don't live in New York. I don't understand why people stay, especially since the alien invasion and The Avengers. I honestly wondered why anyone would be dumb enough to stay.

Saying that I was still here, but I can be pretty clueless, computers I understand just fine, but show me a maths test and I'll scream 'how did you know my one weakness?'...my teachers don't know humour, I'm surprised they haven't sent me to the school counsellor yet.

With zombie-like motions and moans I managed to pull on a relatively creased Avenged Sevenfold t-shirt and a grey hoodie, plain baggy jeans and greying trainers shoved onto the lower part of my body as I almost bumped head first into my bedroom door, using a hand to push my brown wavy strands to the side, only for it to bounce back once the door was closed again.

I hate my hair, it hates me, the best kind of relationship.

I remember being awestruck the first time me and my mom moved into the small apartment, but then again I was four, recently flown from London to the noisiest city of America, every little detail feeding my little imaginative mind. Now all I saw was dull walls, dull furniture, dull everything.

My room was situated at the far back of the apartment, between the bathroom and my mom's room, meaning that all I had to to do was mumble my way down the narrow walkway a few steps before it opened up to the kitchen and the living room. I always went into the kitchen first, it being the closet as it was simply on my left, making my body twist ninety degrees as I grabbed the box of Cheerios from off the shelf above the two counters, oven and fridge.

"This is the last time I'm waking you up, you need to buy an alarm clock." My mom ranted, gulping down the biggest mug of coffee in the universe as she sat at the round oak table that we called the 'dining room'; it was a simple wood table with two identical chairs which were placed where the kitchen stopped, the line being four rows of unused counters and a rusty old sink.

My mom always wore the same attire, spotted blouses (usually black) with a light black jacket to cover it, close fitting black trousers with three inch high heels to match. Seriously, she always looked like she was heading to a funeral. But luckily her vibrant blonde and painted red nails didn't make her look like she had just stepped out of an old-fashioned black and white movie, said blonde hair nearly allays tied up in a simple ponytail, the pointed tip just reaching the back of her neck.

Even I had to admit my mom was pretty, not drop dead gorgeous as the girls at school said, but she could quite easily pick up guys if she didn't have such an obnoxious personality. She was that _do as your told or else _type of person, even the people she worked with were scared of her, and journalists are supposed to be able to deal with anything. Yeah, my mom's a journalist, which means she usually travels around a lot, leaving moiré to do most of he house work.

Though perhaps said housework was never truly done to her standard, or even a housework standard to be honest.

I rolled my eyes lazily, but the movement strained my adjusting eyes, forcing them to shrivel up slightly as I tried to blearily coordinate the Cheerios into a bowl.

"One, you said that last time. Two...we don't have the money for an alarm clock." I grumbled, somehow multi-tasking as I grabbed a carton of milk and poured it into a blue plastic bowl with the Cheerios.

"That's right, we don't have the money, maybe it's about time you got a job." My mom hinted, to which I was so tempted to just shove my head into the breakfast bowl, I would likely start snorkelling up the milk in-between exhausted snores.

"Where would I get a job? I'm fourteen, and anyway, if Mr _J. Jonah Jameson _paid you actual wages then we would have the money." I argued, the mockery towards my mom's boss intentional as I hated the biased-

Let's just say I had many colourful words in mind to fill that.

I heard my mom's lips purse and make that annoying _pop_ sound, to which I knew I had annoyed her and thus stayed quiet. I pulled my hair out of my eyes for the eighth time that morning and sat in the chair opposite her, spilling some of the milk onto the polished wood. With a slight flick of the paper, I knew Mom wanted me to clean it up, I was about to use my sleeve when she raised her voice sharply.

"Don't. you. _Dare_."

It wasn't a shout, but the threat was enough to make me gulp. I sighed loudly before standing up again and grabbing a tea towel, quickly wiping the spillage away and then dumping the cloth behind me onto the counter. On cue my Mom gave me a slight sour look before returning her eyes to the Daily Bugle, a suspiciously good quality picture of Spider-man on the cover page with the headline:

**Hero Or Menace? **

From the first few lines (which I had to read with squinted eyes) I concluded it was about the aftermath of Dr Connors' rampage last year, seriously, Mr J (as I called him) had nothing else worth while to write about? I mean, even The Avengers were still having a lot of buzz around them but the Daily Bugle were still chasing after the red spandex spider.

"We are not getting into this argument again Alex, I can't afford to lose this job, as soon as a better offer comes around it'll get easier. I promise." She told me behind the black and white printed paper, I scoffed through a mouthful of Cheerios as a response.

"That's what you always say." I mumbled, but my mom didn't make a comment. She sat with me until I put the empty bowl in the sink for my chores after school, then she got up and yanked on a beige trench coat, checking she had everything before rushing towards the front door.

"I'll be a bit later today, you know the drill, get in quick and don't answer the door to anyone." She repeated, like she did every day, not even saying goodbye as she shut the door loudly. I breathed a sigh of relief, I loved my mom, really, but it was suffocating being around her...when she was around anyway, most days I spent by myself playing Call Of Duty on multiplayer, but most of the guys thrashed me.

"Love you too." I mumbled at the front door as I packed all my school stuff into a plain black rucksack. I knew my mom was insanely busy and simple exchanges of 'love you' or 'bye sweetheart' could easily slip her racing mind, but once in a while, it would be nice.

With my bag packed I decided to just leave early, I had nothing better to do and I could always take a detour to the comic book shop. I made a quick rush to the bathroom, checking how messed up my hair looked in the tiny mirror that stood precariously on the sink, the round oval shape not even giving much insight on most of my reflection. After a few adjustments if the little mirror, I managed to get a good look at my deranged hair.

Yep, almost all of the strands either covered my eyes or stood up in every angle. I never tried to do anything with it, it was the way it was, messy. And vanity wasn't in my file, vanity cost time, time I could spend on actually living a moderate life.

Once the check was over, I sprinted back into the main room. Hauling the heavy bag over one shoulder, I reached for my keys that hung off the key rack by the front door and inserted it into said door once I was on the other side in the corridor, the sticky lock meaning I had to snap it to the right multiple times before it made the eventual click.

I don't remember Mom ever having the same problem, maybe the door just hates me too.

Once I reached outside, I wished I'd put on a raincoat, it was pouring down with piercing raindrops and I was soaked within seconds of emerging out of the apartment building's doors. The instinct to pull my hood up instantly made me obey it, but it counted for squat as my brown hair dampened as the water soaked through the material.

The rain was because of dark thunder clouds over head, the bellowing rumble and odd lightening strikes pumping adrenaline through me, forcing me to sprint to the comic book shop a block away, cars streaming past me every second, a few very _kind_ drivers even decided to push their car up against the curb and splash me with bitterly savage puddles. I shouted a few insults as they sped away, practically catching hypothermia as I stepped inside the stuffy comic book shop, my whole attire dripping puddles onto the crumb invested blue carpet.

The owner's son, Riley, seemed slightly annoyed by my appearance, the squelch of my damp trainers forming muddy footprints in the carpet. But luckily I knew the guy quite well, him being a partner of mine in some Call Of Duty missions, he was a good sniper while I'd flank the enemy.

His ginger hair was cut short like he was in the army, but his physique resembled that of a rhino, and I'm not even trying to sound harsh. I reckon if he truly wanted to he could get into a wrestle club, but seeing as he was comic nerd, sports wasn't in his style, but like me you couldn't just tell we were nerds by looking at us, you had to at least talk to us a few times before you realised. His fashion normally changed, that day he wore bulky cameo trousers and shirt, giving the whole impression of a young soldier. He was only around eighteen, but he was exceptionally short, just above my height.

I mumbled an apology, pulling my hood down and freeing my sodden hair. I whipped it around like a wet dog, careful to not let a drop so much as touch one of the comic books, because I did not have the money to pay for one, I just liked looking, especially the Captain America ones, they were awesome.

Without causing too much attention to myself (luckily people didn't really care that I was drowned, many were too immersed in the comic books) I slowly walked along the shelves, eyes skimming over covers as I looked for the more vintage ones.

Even now The Avengers had caused much ruckus in the comic world, figurines, toys, games, comics...people were pouncing on the idea after the battle of New York, none of it really dying down. I admit that people were more open to aliens, me included, but it seemed a lot to take in even if it had been around two years or so.

"Ah here we go." I whispered to myself, finding the Captain America section which had gained newer released comics since the battle of New York. I picked one at random and opened it up, the star-spangled man and his team of soldiers being in a heated battle against the Nazis, some guy named Bucky Barnes being Cap's sidekick. Not many people remember the sidekicks, but this one, I don't know, to loads of people he was just another soldier that was forgotten quickly, and to be honest the whole team deserved more publicity than Captain Stars.

"Good, aren't they?"

"Son of a-"

I jolted as the voice appeared beside me, ripping the page slightly due to the suddenness, my mind mentally finishing off the curse.

I snapped my head to where the voice had come from, seeing a middle-aged guy with a tight but warm smile on his face, he wore formal clothes, an all business like suit with an almost perfect tie. At first I thought maybe he was some perv or a real fan boy for Captain America, but the warmth in his eyes and smile told me it wasn't the first one.

"Yeah, I guess so..." I stuttered slowly, a little bit awkward because this random guy didn't seem so random, I don't know, I got the strange feeling like he was talking to me for a reason. He didn't offer to shake my hand or greet with his name, he simply casted his eyes between me and the ripped comic, that smile expertly plastered onto his face.

"You ripped that." He enlightened, a finger pointing at the tiny rip, I looked down in horror, biting my tongue as not to scream. I was hoping Riley hadn't seen, but that hope was quickly poofed out of existence as he stormed over to me, face one of slight annoyance and sympathy. He cocked a bushy eyebrow, me offering the best toothy grin, the tinniest flicker of hope that he wouldn't say it.

"Alex, you know what I'm going to say don't you?" He asked, to which the grin disappeared and I nodded my head slowly, bowing it in shame. I closed the comic book, looking between the guy and Riley as I fumbled pointlessly inside my bag, silently praying to the gods that I was wrong and I had money stashed away somewhere. But no, even when my searching became frantic, no miracle money touched my cold fingers.

"I'll pay you back tomorrow, I don't have any money now, honest." I stumbled over my own tongue as I tried to reason with Riley, resulting to puppy dog eyes, but he shook his head with a stern expression.

"I'm sorry Alex, but you know what my dad is like, if he finds out you didn't pay he'll go nuts." He said forcefully, but he didn't need to, everyone knew his dad was like the ultimate grumpy comic book fan. He knew everything there was to know, and if you didn't pay for what you broke he'd call the police on you, no matter the damage.

"I _don't _have the money. I can't be late for school again, please Riley, I promise tomorrow I'll be here extra early to pay up." I pleaded, grovelling something I used for moments like this, but it didn't work on Mom, and apparently it didn't work on Riley either as his pale features tightened, trying to not fall for my pleads.

"If you don't have the money to pay, I'll have to get my dad. I'm sorry but I can't help you." He stated through a sigh, me being one of the few people he could actually call a friend, even though we knew nothing about each other except through comics and virtual war games.

"I'll pay."

The new voice made both me and Riley look at the smile guy, that smile still there as he pulled out his wallet from his trouser pocket, my eyes catching the slightest glimpse of what looked like a badge of some sort, but I didn't recognise the logo.

So, I guessed the guy was a cop, or perhaps FBI, I didn't find out until later that I was way off on who he actually was.

Despite the weird badge, and despite the guy offering to pay, I held my hands up to stop him, making swipe motions with them and urgent brown eyes to follow.

"No you don't have to pay, it's my crime, I'll pay for it." I said hastily, but the guy just chuckled, somehow finding my words funny. I remember asking who the hell was he in my head, and why he was helping me out.

"While I agree damaging a Captain America comic is a crime, I don't think its enough to serve time for it. Here." He handed the money over to Riley, who went against what I was saying and took it gratefully. He left to put the money in the till, giving me a little nod before disappearing into the back room. I stood jaw slacked with the comic still in my hand, staring at the guy in disbelief.

"Thanks, I owe you." I said quickly, looking down at the comic in my hand. I outstretched it to the guy, kind of hoping he would take it as I didn't want it, but he declined, shaking his head with that little smile.

"It's the least I can do, and I have that one already." He said with a chirpy tone, suddenly turning to walk away. I shook my head vigorously before chasing after him, catching him just before he opened the front door.

"Hey!" I shouted unnecessarily, the guy stopping abruptly but didn't turn around. "You didn't tell me your name, I need to know the name of the guy I owe." I explained, but mainly it was just curiosity to know at least what his name was, the badge looking way too formal for something as simple as a cop.

"It's Phil." He stated simply, giving me a little wink as he walked out into the thundering rampage of rain and New Yorkers.

Phil, I was expecting something more mysterious, but hey, Phil was a good name...nah it was pretty dull but his kindness made up for it.

Stuffing the comic into my bag, I ventured out into the rain again, a shock of extra loud thunder making me cover my ears. Everyone seemed slightly worried by the constant thunder, especially since Thor emerged as part of The Avengers. I looked up to the sky, the swirling vortex of black clouds weirdly holding streaks of what looked like pale green.

Odd.

But maybe Thor was just having a moody day, or he was ill, which would kind of explain the green tinge.

"Alright Thor, don't take it out on us." I mumbled to the sky, a few passers-by giving me strange looks, nearly everyone was crazy in their own way so I didn't take much notice.

Rain crashed onto my eyelashes and eyes alike, a slight stinging pain erupting before I pulled my hood up and stumbled along the sidewalk. I tried to rush the best I could, swerving between people as I made my way towards school, many people talking loudly into little earpieces.

My thoughts didn't really think about Phil, yeah okay he helped me out and had that weird badge, but there were a lot of strange people in New York, so I didn't really take much notice as I didn't think I would see him again. But the next thing that happened, was impossible to ignore, because it literally crashed right into me.

I had managed to guide my way out of the bustling wilder beasts of people, turning down a nice little short cut in a rather open alleyway, even though I was always told to not use alleyways and stick to the main streets. But I was late, and the rain I could perhaps use as an excuse to the brash twist down the alleyway as I needed some shelter from the constant rain. Thor really wasn't lighting up, I wondered whether the whole city would have a power cut because of it, Stark Tower included.

Because I had pulled the hood down to protect my eyes, I could only see a small slit which was the concrete floor, my hands becoming numb as I forgot to bring gloves, but to be honest, I always managed to lose my gloves anyway. Slightly going off topic, but I couldn't see, so I didn't witness as an explosion of green erupted from just ahead of me. Admittedly I probably should have heard it, but the rain pelted the ground so roughly it sounded like gunshots, which masked the rising scream of the green eruption.

But as I walked past it, I felt the impact of a heavy object which forcefully pole vaulted me a good couple of metres, a yelp escaping my dry throat from the surprise and pain. The object groaned, both of us in a tangled mass of limbs, but I quickly pushed the person off me, stumbling backwards as I lost my balance and fell (indignantly) onto my backside. I didn't move for a few moments, getting my breath back as my chest heaved, heart racing.

With the rain drops obscuring my vision, I could only make out that the groaning object was a kid, and I use the term _kid _lightly.

His height and weight was about the size of a small teen, even though he looked thinner than average, but that could be his height. His face was obscured as he was flat on the concrete floor, but his black hair was greasy and was around shoulder length. But it wasn't these features that caught my attention or confused me, hell no, it was his _clothes_.

They looked regal, but not like the royal family regal, this reminded me of Roman clothes. A thick green tunic which apparently had an under layer as the main tunic cut off just below his shoulders but long sleeved green fabric carried on underneath. The tunic was clamped together with a gold coloured thing that clunk around his waist, it looked heavy, like two welded clamps below the middle of his back. His thin legs were covered with a thin black fabric, but I could only describe them as tights, but the material looked thicker than tights, with large leather boots to finish, the also golden plated rim just below the joint that would be the kneecaps.

What the fuck...what the actual _fuck_!

Those were the only words going through my head as I saw this kid lying unmoving in front of me, the only reason I guessed he was a he, was because the groan had a slight masculine edge to it, even though the childish squeak was still there.

Now, a normal person would help the kid, check he was okay, ask whether he was an alien. Not me, nope, I jumped to my feet and sprinted all the way out the other end of the alleyway. Maybe I was cruel, but the kid scared the crap out of me, the clothes, the sudden appearance out of a _wall_, and the only reason I knew the wall was even there was because I had used the alleyway numerous times since I started at Midtown.

But it was already too late, I got caught up with something that I would have had no part of if I hadn't of gone down that alleyway. When I think back, I wonder if I could actually go back and change it would I want to? I mean, from what I know and do now, was it really that bad to meet the kid version of Loki, the god of mischief?

Yes, it was...it was bad.

Luckily the rest of day held no weird kids (well, not above the weirdness scale of the alleyway kid) or possible cops like Phil, just lessons and monotonous teachers. I caught Peter Parker for chat, we normally got on anyway, seeing as we both genuinely got the brunt of the bullies, only I swear girl bullies were worse as they could hurt you physically, but jesus, mentally that could fricken destroy you.

Even though Peter was three years older than me, we seemed to be quite good friends. He helped me when bullies were concerned, even when I was struggling with science he helped me out (of course there was a catch, five bucks for each essay, which was actually good going) but I didn't really get where he suddenly knew science so well, maybe I'll never know.

Saying that, he suddenly seemed a lot more confident and carefree since last year, I took it as a no biggy, especially after what happened to his uncle. Oh, and we probably got on well since we both share daddy issues, Peter wasn't really that hateful as much and I didn't really like talking about my dad, mainly because I didn't even know him, typical cliche 'daddy wasn't there'...but it was true.

The rest of the day I mainly spent at home alone yelling commands at people on Call Of Duty, I could get into it pretty quickly, but hey, if I ever end up in the middle of a war or battle I'll know what to do, though I prefer the virtual ones. The real ones kill. Duh.

The ripped comic book that was stuffed in my bag was quickly forgotten, the bag itself discarded in a corner as I hated the thing, okay it was useful, but damn it was heavy.

If only I realised that was the last normal moment I would have for a while, I would have stayed up to about one in the morning, just savouring the normality of playing a war game with middle-aged men (but most of them weren't creeps, they were too transfixed in the actual game anyway) and a can of coca cola on the floor beside me (I have to sit on the edge of my bed to play as I haven't got a gamer chair, no money remember).

If that doesn't sound normal to you, wait until you read what I had in store for me the next day, let's just say the alley kid had somehow remembered me...screw him...screw Loki, screw The Avengers, and especially screw S.H.I.E.L.D!

..

...

...

I hope Fury doesn't read this.

I really don't want to have another _training session _with Natasha and Clint, the translation for training session being simply _getting your ass kicked and then being target practice_.

Better keep this autobiography to myself for awhile, that is, if Tony doesn't get JARVIS to invade my laptop again.

I hate Ironman.

~ signed Alex Moore

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**That's it for now, I promise there will be more than hints at kid!loki after next chapter. Until then, please review!**

**~Gothgirlstrikesagain **


	3. 5th June 2014: Part One

**I'm back again. Thank you for the support, I didn't expect for it to be so quick.**

**i don't have set times for this, seeing as I'm focusing on another x-men story, but I thought I'd better carry on and add this.**

**thank you hotbibl for the review, I know it was mean, but I didn't want to jump in straight away with Loki and thought him running away would seem a probable thing for Alex to do.**

**disclaimer: I only own OCs**

**with that done, on with the chapter...**

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**Phil's The Man**

Next day, I woke up with the same boring routine of getting woken up by Mom, eat Cheerios while still half asleep, half-heartily listen to my mom rant at me to get a job, watch her leave for work and then make my own way to school.

As I walked down the busy street, I realised that the weather was still pretty depressive, it wasn't raining and there was no thunder, but the sky, it was as black as charcoal. Luckily the green tinge had gone, but then the thought made me remember the alley kid from yesterday, the weird clothes, the walking through a wall thingy, I was starting to think maybe he was a mutant or something.

Ah, mutants. Fair to say I've met a few now, well, if two count as a few.

But that's a whole different story, and I'm sure Sam and John would actually _kill _me if I typed them down, because they were technically wanted as terrorists...swiftly moving on before John sets my hair on fire.

I knew the kid wasn't normal, that was obvious, a more rational side of me believed he was just a cosplayer or something, they were quite common since The Avengers emerged and appeared out of nowhere. But I still got this weird feeling. I couldn't explain what it was about him, same with Phil in the comic book shop, there was something just not right about it.

I didn't know why I was worrying, I thought I'd see neither again, New York was full of people and most of the time you never saw the same person twice unless you knew them or they stayed in the same area. Oh boy how wrong I was. I remember reaching school, Peter whizzing past me on his skateboard, nearly making me trip over my own feet as the sudden rush of wind past over me.

"Oi!" I snapped angrily, feeling quite grumpy after getting only six hours sleep.

What? I need like twelve to function properly.

He jumped off his skateboard, did that little trick where you stamp on an end and catch it in your hand, and then waited for me to walk over to him as he leaned on the stone structure of a lion, these lions being on both sides of the steps into school.

"What's the problem? I didn't knock you over." He stated with a knowing grin, unable to even fake an innocent look as I glared at him. Many other students bustled inside as the sky grew greyer, but to be honest, I'd rather be out in the oncoming rain than inside being bored to death.

"There's no problem, it was either throw my bag at your head or shout, otherwise you ignore me." I said sarcastically, but the smugness was wiped off my face straight away as Peter suddenly appeared in front of me, my eyes obscured as he gripped me in a headlock. Okay, a year ago I could quite easily shrug him off, he wasn't all that strong, then bam! I couldn't even beat him at an arm wrestle.

"Let me go you dick!" I muffled colourfully, groaning as I tried to escape out of his grip, but he simply rubbed my head with a fist, almost accidentally scolding my scalp. He laughed his head off at my expense, not cruelly, like an older brother annoying a little brother.

That was a weird notion.

_Peter Parker _like an older brother, I mean he was funny and pretty cool, especially since Midtown was like every other school, the different grades normally staying separate but Peter helped me out by knocking me over on my first day. Let's just say I didn't do P.E for a week because my leg was in a cast. I gave the favour back by doing his IT essay, but to be honest he didn't say anything about the _quality _of it.

"That's not very nice...but I'll let you go anyway." He chuckled, letting me go as promised, I quickly retaliated by punching his arm sharply but it only seemed to ache my knuckles. We both laughed as the bell rang for registration, sprinting inside together before Peter _rolled _down the opposite corridor from me.

My spirits were up a lot more than that morning, okay I hated school but Peter just made everything a little more...exciting, not in that way. He just knew how to cheer me up.

My hopes were getting higher as I had double IT, a perfect chance to learn some new hacking techniques, Mr Dungbell normally left us to our own devices, he didn't really care what we did as long as we didn't mention him drinking from a flask every lesson...a perfect blackmail piece if I was some sort of super villain, but I wasn't, I was a minor who was socially awkward.

We were half way through the second period when our headmistress walked into the class, I heard the clack of high heels, but my eyes were transfixed on the computer screen. The message, a simple black italic sentence that sent a migraine straight into my brain, like an intense shock.

The message itself was shattering enough, but it was how it appeared on the screen, it was embedded into the desktop, the plain blue background with one white strip across the centre from where the message had been typed out.

_**Would you like to to meet your father Alex Joshua Moore?**_

Okay, at first I thought it was some sick joke from maybe Flash, but he was too dumb to know how to type a message with more than two syllables. And the program, none of the computers had any sort of program like that, hell, I had no idea if it was a program at all. It wasn't hack, at least if it was a hack I could try and determine the source by means of frantic clicks, but it looked _professional _and professional stuff was way out of the league of a hobbyist like me.

"Mr Moore, come with me please." She ordered, my eyes eventually snapping away from the screen, but the horror was still glistening in them. I hastily stepped out of the chair, not wanting to waste her time as I knew she was angry by the forced sour expression, when in reality it would likely be a raging one if she didn't hold her temper.

"Yes miss." I stuttered, turning to turn the computer off, finding that the cringe-worthy message had disappeared, the screen the normal blue without the white strip. I hadn't imagined it, I was certain by the summon from the headmistress that it was real, even how much I wanted it to be fantasy.

My dad, the man who was fond of disappearing acts. My mom was a journalist, I deducted over my childhood that she was trying to write an article about a type of government, somehow my dad being involved and meeting frequently with her to stop her from putting the article in a British newspaper. Fair to say I happened, and as usual sob stories go he disappeared before he knew she was pregnant, and well, she constantly looked at me and I saw a flicker of acknowledgement that I looked like him.

The message told me a lot, whoever it was they knew my name, they knew my dad, they clearly knew about my mom and how he was connected with her. Maybe...maybe this was the government that she was trying to write about, use me as leverage to make sure she didn't breathe one word.

Yeah right. It had been _years _since that, in total around fourteen and a quarter to be specific. And anyway, why would a super secret or potentially dangerous government want _me_? A fourteen year old with daddy issues, one friend who suddenly had immensely quick reflexes, a workaholic mother, and spent everyday either in a comic book shop, playing Call Of Duty, or trying to learn moderate hacks.

I was an ant and the maybe-evil-government was a boot, even they wouldn't be bothered to step on me.

The headmistress lead me into her office, but she didn't stay, she merely motioned me to take the _trouble chair _that sat directly in front of her desk. I sat obediently, not even turning my head as she closed the door with a slight slam, my mind focused more on the possible trouble I was walking into.

The suffocating silence was daunting, my fingers involuntarily taping on the wooden arm of the chair, the clicking sounds reminding me of morse code, so to pass the time I pretended to tap out SOS as it was the only morse code I knew. However the boredom didn't last as long as I had hoped, the office door opening which made me jump out of my skin.

"It was one time!" I blurted out, earning a strange look from a young looking woman who stepped through the door.

Dark brown hair tied up, medium coloured skin, and it seemed her face was forever stuck in a permanent stern expression, her facial features holding no creases as her lips tightened into a straight line. Her clothes were quite formal, most of her body hidden under a black leather jacket which stopped above her thighs, business-like black trousers and what looked like black boots were obscured by the fabric of her trousers..._pants_.

I can't believe I'm still using British terms when I've lived in America for over fourteen years!

The outburst was mainly only nerves, my mind playing on the idea that the woman was there to interrogate me, find out what I knew by whatever meant necessary.

I like crime novels, what can I say?

The _one time _being about the first time I managed to hack into the school system, I didn't get very far though, my laptop crashed and I started freaking out because I thought they would know it was me straight away. They still haven't figured it out, but since my vague confession to the unnamed woman, I had been guessing at the time that the school would know soon, that was, if the woman had actually asked me to elaborate further on it.

But she didn't.

She merely stood, arms crossed, with eyes dripping with what I believed to be _sympathy_. Maybe that was the wrong word for the dull in her eyes, more like...a mild pity. But even then that wasn't exactly accurate.

"You're Alex Moore, is that correct?" The woman asked blatantly, that stern expression unchanged. She was formal, that was bad, that was very very bad.

To the question I simply nodded my head, thinking opening my mouth was a bad idea unless I was given a question I had to answer. The woman sighed, leisurely pacing the space between the corner of the desk and the office door, unable to look me directly in the eyes, which confused me.

"My name is Maria Hill...I work for a special agency named S.H.I.E.L.D." She said evenly, pulling out a badge to prove that she wasn't lying, my eyes squinting at the familiar badge, Phil having the exact same one. But she quickly tucked it in her jacket again, eyes darting around the room as if looking for a hidden camera before she carried on.

"I'm here to talk to you about an event that happened yesterday morning around seven forty-five. Can you tell me what you were doing at this time?" She asked, hinting that I'd better tell the truth if I wanted to keep my teeth.

Yep, this was definitely an interrogation.

I sat motionless, a blank face, but inside I was screaming 'oh my Primus, I'm in so much shit!' at the top of my imaginary voice.

I thought over what had happened that fateful yesterday, I remember wondering whether it was about the grey sky and thunder, but everyone in New York had seen that. My mind calculated about Phil, he did have the same badge as this Maria Hill, and he had seemed a little friendlier towards a complete stranger.

But then my mind clicked.

Oh.

She might have been talking about the cosplayer kid in the alleyway. I decided not to lie, I had a feeling that if she truly needed to, Maria Hill would choke it out of me.

In stutters, I explained loosely how I was walking to school and detoured into the comic book shop, I didn't mention Phil or the ripped comic, I just said I was in there a while then rushed down the alleyway because I was late. I said how I couldn't see a damn thing, but got knocked off my feet by a kid, glossing over how he looked peculiar and shamly ended the tale by saying I had run off and left the kid on the floor, mentioning that he had shown sighs of life before I ran off.

Maria Hill had listened intently, watching my hands as I motioned everything I did, a habit that I hadn't grown out of, and still haven't. She was (as deducted by me) interested in the cosplayer, though I didn't say the word, I did joke by saying it could have been a hero wannabe.

With my story over, Maria Hill, (I'll just say Hill as it will be easier than typing down her whole name, it hurts my hand after a while.) looked in deep thought for a moment, then stood up straight, eyes finally locking on mine with the littlest flicker of a tight-lipped smile.

"Mr Moore, I believe you should accompany me to S.H.I.E.L.D HQ, immediately." She said formally, cold eyes denying me any chance of reclining. For the hell of it, and because I in no way wanted to go with her, wore my best grin and winked at her, but the look just made her face scrunch even tighter.

"But I like school, you're not gonna drag me away from my education are you?" I asked childishly, even shaping my hands into cute dog paws. Hill just stared at me unamused, arms crossed over her chest again, cocking an eyebrow as if to say 'is this seriously the right kid?'.

"Yes I am." She replied flatly, my make-shift dog paws slapping onto my lap as I begrudgingly stood up and followed her out of the office. True enough, she got me out of school and bustled me into a black van with a couple of other people working with this 'S.H.I.E.L.D'.

I squished myself in-between the two extremely unsociable agents, one a woman who sat on my left, her expression reminding me of a shark, cold unwavering eyes to go with it. The one on my right was a man, relatively young and seemed quite skittish, a laptop balanced precariously on his lap.

His brown frizzy hair made him look like a newly diagnosed mad scientist, his blue eyes glued to the laptop screen, and saw to my amazement and distrust that the message I had seen on the school computer screen was slightly obscured by another file document, but I could make out the black italic text that had had left me jaw-slacked.

When the unnamed agent realised I was spying on his laptop, he frantically closed everything down, giving me a sheepish smile before awkwardly trying to look at the window. I laughed out loud, something that not only surprised the other agents but me myself, why was I laughing at a time like this?

Well, because I thought it was insane, surreal, and let's not forget extremely fucked up.

The skittish agent snapped his head to me as I tried to hide my snickers, a slight crease of his bushy eyebrows before a smirk quivered onto his face. I guessed he was just going with my laughter, even though he probably didn't realise why I was laughing.

The other female agent didn't look so impressed, eyes staring straight ahead as she blocked out my very existence, well, apparently me laughing wasn't the best first impression. As the van drove off suddenly (me chaotically putting my seatbelt on as I had forgot to before the vehicle starting moving) I realised that it wasn't Hill at the wheel, but another male agent.

I couldn't see much of him, his head being mostly obscured by the headrest, but I could distinctly make out a mass of blonde hair and quite muscled arms as the agent gripped the steering wheel.

"I still don't understand why you didn't get Skye instead of me, she's the hacker."

The skittish agent said, a clear Scottish accent, but luckily enough I could understand him quite well. He had leaned forward as if trying to get closer so Hill could hear him, gripping the laptop to his chest, a slight annoyance on his face.

"Because Skye is still being monitored, and another reason I don't need to explain to you." Hill replied flatly, eyes firmly locked on the busy street with hundreds of beeping car horns and angry drivers. The tension (if it were even possible) grew stuffier. The unnamed extra reason sending everyone into a lethal silence, the Scottish agent slumping back in his seat.

"Not meaning to be rude or anything, but erm, where the hell are you taking me?"

I had a different word for the _hell_ but thought the agents would find it offensive, and I really didn't want to anger them, especially the shark woman. I watched as her shoulders slouched in an irritable sigh, and I imagined her sharp eyes rolling with a snap, the image bringing giggles back, but luckily I managed to stifle them behind my hand as Hill answered my question.

"I told you, S.H.I.E.L.D HQ, we have a proposition for you once we sort out a few things." She said with a slight waver in her tone, like a random choke as if she was struggling to get the words out. Again the van was too quiet, even with the car horns and the abuse being screeched on the streets.

I was confused by her choice of words, the _once we sort out a few things _and _proposition _didn't sound good. Then again, I was in the back of a black van, in-between two agents I didn't know anything about, driving towards a HQ of an agency I knew nothing about except its name. None of it sounded remotely good, it sounded terrible, scary even.

"Hi." I greeted the Scottish agent sheepishly, him jolting from my direct interaction with him, seeing as he had only just reopened his laptop to type something. He was clearly hiding something, it wouldn't take a child to figure out he knew more about me than any of the others were letting on.

"Hello." He replied after a few moments of silence, motioning a little wave with his hand. When he thought the conversation was over, he returned his attention back to his laptop, placing it at an angle so I couldn't see the screen, obviously suspicious.

"So...you're British then, or Scottish." I said after boredom settled in, though this time the agent didn't take his eyes of the screen as he replied.

"Yeah that's right. Bet its good to know you're not the only one." He said with a light chuckle, then realised what he said, and then stuttered over his words.

"Not that I er-know that you're British, I just erm, guessed by-by you're accent." He uttered, internally kicking himself for letting on that he knew stuff about me, and because the accent mention was false, I sounded American. He licked his lips as he refused to even look in my direction, still focused on the laptop screen with fearful eyes.

He was about to say something else to counter what he had said, mouth open ready, but then the shark agent stopped him with a firm tone.

"Fitz, I think its best that you _stop _talking."

The voice even made me obey, it wasn't loud, but the command in it, damn, it scared the hell out of me.

Unfortunately _Fitz _did as ordered and closed his mouth firmly, me unable to get anymore information out of him, even though I hadn't planned to originally anyway. The more time I spent with the agents, the more glad I was of being so vague about my explanation of yesterday, because I was becoming increasingly less trustworthy towards them.

For the rest of the journey I didn't say anything, listening as Fitz mumbled to himself as he typed on his laptop, images of sy-fy weapons flashing across the screen (ones I could barely see as he still had it at an angle). Considering this was supposed to be a secret agency, they weren't doing a good job of hiding their gadgets, surely even I could memorise the blue print plans of these futuristic weapons.

Eventually we reached S.H.I.E.L.D HQ, the outside structure reminding me of a high tech library rather than an agency. It was in plain sight, sat on the outer layer of the city, surrounded by construction sites and other modern skyscraper buildings.

It was mid-day by the time the black van pulled next to the building, or so I thought it was pulling up, instead it angled itself down a side alley, the brick wall sliding up silently to reveal an inner basement type hallway.

"Oh that's awesome." I muttered in awe as the brick wall slide back down as the van entered the high tech car park, that's the only way I could describe it. The car park was grey concrete, all grey, which would be dull except for the amount of military like armoured cars.

"This is nothing, wait until you see-" Fitz stopped abruptly when the shark agent snapped her head to glare coldly at him, a clear silent command to stay quiet.

"May if you keep using that look, it'll stick...if it hasn't done already." The driver quipped, Agent May rolling her eyes as she sighed, and I realised that all the agents seemed to know each other quite well, except for Agent Hill, who barely even looked at the other agents.

I asked whether it was like a levels thing, like those detective films where a cop at a certain level can't know what the higher level cops know, I guessed quite quickly that this was true as a couple of men clad in identical formal suits marched towards the van as the driver parked it, possibly asking for identification like any other top secret agency, _protocol _and all that.

But I was wrong, both of the identical men wore mischievous smirks, and I realised that they were likely twins. Everyone hastily stepped out of the van, like a baby learning, I copied their every move, finding myself standing by the driver. He looked young, not insane young, but younger than Agent Fitz, and I could tell by the glint in his blue eyes that he was the comedic type.

The twins casted their eyes on me in unison, slightly creepy, but they seemed harmless...well, harmless-ish. They seemed excited to see me, one biting his lip to stop himself from squealing, the other saluted me jokily. Okay, I guessed a lot more agents knew me at S.H.I.E.L.D, a bit weird that I knew nothing about them until that morning.

"Agent Fitz, Agent May and Agent Storm are requested in the conference room."

Both of the twins said in unison with a strained sternness, because their facial expressions were the opposite of stern. I had no idea how to tell the two apart, both had the same short cut military hairstyle, a ginger colour, the same thin facial features that made them appear like skeleton with their noses slightly hooked. Same thin but muscled body, even the same posture, now that's taking the _copycat _saying to a whole new level. However, the tone had a high-pitched almost crazed voice, reminding me of the reaper Grell Sutcliff in the anime Black Butler.

I admit to watching anime! Don't judge me!

But it had that creepy and flamboyant edge to it, and it made me wonder why someone (or two people) were allowed to even be in a top secret agency. Unless only the crazy would sign up...I'm not crazy...as of yet.

"Understood." Fitz grumbled as no-one else seemed to show acknowledgement of this request, Agent May still glaring, and who I guessed as being Agent Storm was busy flicking a lighter. When I say lighter, it was more like a zippo, the markings on the side having the initials T.S in flaming letters. Nobody seemed to mind as he did this, the flame erupting for a second before he closed it again.

"Mr Moore, follow me." Agent Hill ordered, storming towards a set of silver double doors, though it could have possibly just have been a lighter grey. With a shuffle in my steps, I lumbered behind her, but made sure to at least keep up enough so she didn't whip around and say I was wasting her time, though apparently by her straightened posture I had already done that.

Agent Hill escorted inside the _hub _as I heard some of the agents call it, I caught quick glances of these many faces, most of them the same stern expression as Agent May's, but there was still an obvious curiosity towards me. I waved shyly at them, however they just returned to their work, most of them sitting at futuristic computers typing away furiously.

Agent Hill walked damn quickly, seriously, I could jog and I wouldn't keep up with her. Nonetheless, she kept within my sights so I didn't get lost in this maze of a secret agency, but to be honest I was quite good with directions, well, if I had at least walked it more than once.

So emotions evaluation:

Awestruck. Check.

Dumbfounded. Check.

Suspicious. Check.

Privileged to be trusted with this secret HQ...I guess check, but mostly I wasn't.

I was worried. The worry due to _why _they were trusting me, they didn't know anything except for the thin file they had on me in their massive file cabinet on every human person on the world. They didn't know I would sell them out to their enemies, I wouldn't, but they didn't know that. They didn't know my emotions or personality.

They knew _facts_.

And it would take more than facts to judge a person, believe me, I know that now.

In the end we came to a closed off room hidden down a dimly lit corridor. Metal, apparently everything in S.H.I.E.L.D was made of metal.

Agent Fitz, Agent Storm and Agent May had all wandered off as soon as we had walked inside the hub, I guessed they were going to this _conference room _the creepy twins had been going on about. Saying that, the twins didn't seem like actual people as such. They moved too robotically, and talked in unison. Maybe they were some sort of holograms with a hard light.

I've been watching way too much Red Dwarf.

Agent Hill shoved me inside without even touching me, the way she opened the door and waited for me to enter first told me to get in quick. I did as I was silently told, finding that the room was pretty dull. More grey metal. A glass window (likely one way like in the movies) and a basic metal table and two chairs placed on opposites sides.

She didn't need to tell me, I sat down and waited for the interrogation to begin.

I found myself staring at the large one way mirror, wondering who could be watching me on the other side, because I knew from watching too many actions films that there was _always _someone on the other side.

"Alex, am I right in saying you are a hacker enthusiast?" Agent Hill asked evenly, again pacing in front of my eyeline, and incidentally in front of the mirror.

I remember asking why she was asking about my IT skills, okay it had got me into trouble before but nothing on a law scale, I didn't want to get caught up in that FBI web.

Licking my lips, I simply shrugged my shoulders tiredly.

"It's a hobby." I stated, but Agent Hill could easily deduct it was more than that.

"I'm being very patient with you Alex, admittedly you are telling the truth, but being vague is not helpful. We know you're exceptionally good at hacking, especially for your age, and we also know how you've been changing your grades in the school system." She revealed in an irritable tone, clearly becoming impatient with me.

So what about it? Nerds do it all the time, it's not like I'm hacking into the secrets of the president or anything, just a few bad grades changed. They must have been monitoring me for a while, much longer than just that yesterday, which begged the question of why me?

"What is this? Okay I admit to changing my grades, and being _vague_. But you're not exactly being truthful to me, all I know is that S.H.I.E.L.D is an agency that means business, you haven't even told me why you brought me here, not really." I argued, wanting to voice my distrust to Agent Hill after all the new surroundings.

She had think what she was going to say to counter, but then she seemed distracted, a finger placed against her ear as if there was a mini radio inside it. Her face instantly grimaced, clearly not liking what the person in the radio was saying. After a few moments of silence, she sharply pulled her hand down, sighed deeply, then looked at me with a composure that could win any care-free contest.

"Another agent is requesting to tell you what we know, he believes you will be more trustworthy towards him." She stated evenly, nodding her head hesitantly before leaving the room.

I snorted, certain that she was wrong.

I slumped in the chair, more relief than boredom, relief because Agent Hill wasn't hanging over me like a bad smell, trying to make me spill my worst secrets.

Strangely, it took ages for the agent to appear, the relief slowly diminishing into suicide-worthy boredom. I watched the mirror uncertainly, hoping to catch a glimpse of a shadowy figure from the other side, but this one way mirror looked too professional for something as cheap as that.

I had time to think, think about how much I was going to tell them. I didn't want to say anymore that what I had originally said but something was telling me I wasn't getting away with that. She said an agent had _requested _to tell me, so maybe the agent knew me, or simply was good at getting information out of people. I remember wondering whether I should be worried, I didn't know the lengths and methods S.H.I.E.L.D were prepared to use, if they were truly secret, then they wouldn't think twice about torturing a fourteen year old.

I didn't think I even had enough important information for torture, but then again, if they were monitoring me for so long then they likely had a whole file about me, maybe one of the things they had against me was when I tried to take a few bucks out of my mom's purse, but she caught me anyway, well, when I say caught I mean I spent it on chips and then she caught me with the packet as I _walked through the door_.

As stated, I'm bad at lying, she knew I had got the money from her and thus grounded me for a week though she wasn't even there to supervise the punishment.

Either way, even the smaller things they could use against me, if they really wanted to. But I didn't have time to think over every wrong thing I'd done because the door clicked open to reveal a face I knew, making my eyes bulge.

Phil from the comic book shop smiled at me tightly, closing the door behind him and then took a step forward. He didn't sit down or try to move closer, in fact, he looked quite apprehensive of me, not what I was expecting since he had been so nice to me in the comic shop.

"Alex, it's amazing to, well, you know." He side-stepped, seeming to be actually excited. I ruffled my eyebrows, having no idea what he was going on about. It was clear from my confusion that Phil knew he had to explain.

"I don't know how to put this, but..." Phil uttered uncertainly, taking a shallow breath. Whatever it was he wanted to say, I wanted him to spit it out, the quicker this was the quicker I could go home.

He finally spoke the words I really did not expect to hear.

"I'm kind of...your dad."

.

..

...

What?

...

What?!

~ Signed Alex Moore

* * *

**There is a part two to this, but it seemed too long putting it altogether. Loki will appear next chapter, I promise.**

**I wanted Phil to have a kid, I mean, he's the most badass agent ever and the way he acts around Skye, I reckon he could have been a good dad XD.**

**anyway, that's all for now, please review.**

**~ Gothgirlstrikesagain **


	4. 5th June 2014: Part Two

**New chapter. Glad I've carried on with this.**

**IMPORTANT: if you would like to see any quirky or funny situations between loki, Alex, Phil or any of the characters then I would quite happily add them in, seeing as I really don't have many humour stuff in mind, horror is more my thing.**

**thanks to magicshadow1 and hotbibl for the reviews.**

**Magicshadow1 ~ thank you so much! it really means a lot that you think I'm a good writer! And yeah, Phil would be a pretty badass dad XD.**

**hotbibl ~ I wasn't originally going to have it be Phil, but Tony seemed too predictable and I don't know the other avengers didn't really seem the type to have a secret kid XD I don't know, in then end phil seemed a probably match, I hope this hasn't spoiled the story for you.**

**disclaimer: I only own OCs.**

**with that done, on with the chapter...**

* * *

**Little Loki Is A Brat**

My first thought was denial. Could you blame me? Okay my dad could have been a slob who ate his own toenail clippings, or could've been a posh snob who disowned me as soon as he saw me. But a middle-aged S.H.I.E.L.D agent who fanboyed over Captain America...didn't really fit what I thought was Mom's type, then again, I wasn't even sure she had a type.

I sat there, mouth open indignantly, staring at the tight smile of Phil. He remained by the door, never taking his eyes off me with a glistening warmth. However, he appeared to be awkward, as if he had no idea on what to do with me.

Shutting my mouth and biting the insides of my cheeks until pain flashed in front of my eyes, I shook my head, just the word _no _repeating over and over again in my head. There was just no way that he was the mystery man my mom always saw in me, I mean, maybe there was some resemblance...

No, I was _not _going to go there.

I suddenly felt exhausted, groaning into my hands as I covered them over my face. The darkness was tranquil, heaven, if I believed in heaven which I didn't, but the blackness shielded me from the predicament I was thrown into.

Phil didn't make a sound, likely waiting for me to say something first, wondering what my reaction would be. At that moment even I didn't know what I felt about it, denial obviously, but that was slowly diminishing as I realised that someone like Phil would likely not lie about something so..._trivial_. There wasn't any anger, that was sure, which surprised me as I always thought if I ever met my dad I would just give him the finger and storm away, because that's what you always want to do when you have daddy issues.

I wasn't angry. In my head I was trying to be, but deep down, I was silently glad that _he _had tried to find me first instead of the other way around. I knew there was more to this than a dad and son reunion, that was clear, but it meant something to Phil, even I could sense that by the way I could hardly hear him move or _breath_.

With a wheezy sigh and a buzzing head, I swallowed down a fur-ball sized lump and limply lifted my head out of my hands. Phil was still staring at me, giving me time, time to think over what I was going to say. I had nothing left to lose, I thought I might as well lighten the tension a bit.

"Please don't make a Star Wars reference." I muttered hollowly, even with my mind screaming at me to get out while I could. But I couldn't. That was it. I was caught up in this S.H.I.E.L.D and a lot more than I had originally planned. And I couldn't exactly just _walk out_, I was pretty sure the hologram twins would catch me and drag me back with a grip on my ears.

Phil chuckled lightly, clearly knowing which quote I was suggesting, great, I realised this must have been where my nerdiness came from. I was trying so hard to deny it, but how could I? I had been trying to figure who my dad was for years, and him supposedly standing in front of me was like a satisfied punch to the gut, if that was even a thing.

"I'm glad you're taking this so easily." He said tentatively.

"Believe me, I'm not, I'm just in that mind blown stage." I grumbled, this _mind blown stage _not a good one. Phil was quite optimistic, not treating my answer as downright denial, instead, he took the pause in the conversation and moved forward, outstretching a stiff hand. I glared at it for ages, wondering if this was a test or a death sentence. In the end I mentally shrugged and shook it lightly, finding that Phil's was just as tender, this clearly out of his comfort zone.

The tension was mild then, but replaced with a suffocating awkwardness as Agent Hill had left the room, leaving me with Phil, claiming to my disappearing act dad. When he let my hand go (my palm slick with sweat, mainly due to my own anxious state) he said something below a whisper, something that sent a new wave of curiosity flooding over me.

"I wish this was under better circumstances Alex."

As soon as this was said, he regained his composure and flashed into professional mode. I began the bombardment of questions because I couldn't hold it in anymore, the electric pain caused by me biting my tongue was too much, I had to spill or I would combust and burst into flames in front of him.

"Why now...why am I here _now_?" I asked through a choke, this choke being because my voice had broke into a childish squeak, red blooming onto my cheeks, though Phil pretended he didn't see nor hear my embarrassment. He sighed, slipping into a chair opposite me, my mind still unable to believe it was him.

Even now as I'm typing this, it's hard to comprehend that my dad is Phil Coulson, though it's still hard for the word _dad _to roll off my tongue, I normally just settle with Phil.

"I didn't want you here."

At least he was truthful, but the words stung a little.

"I didn't want you getting caught up in S.H.I.E.L.D, I wanted you and Jessica to be safe." He said forcefully, that little smile on his face faltering when he mentioned Mom. It was outlandish, but then again everything was surreal anyway so I just let it pass over my head.

"I thought you two were out, I hoped, but apparently you have a habit of being in the right place at the right time." He chuckled, clearly stating that was another trait I had inherited from him. I knew it wasn't from Mom, she never had any trouble except the once when I was very little and some guy tried to mug her, he didn't count on her carrying a taser.

"S.H.I.E.L.D scanners found...an _anomaly_, a reading we only get when Asguardians are concerned." He uttered, producing a thick file seemingly out of no where. Before he continued he placed it on the table and turned it slowly to face me, with wary hands, I pulled it towards me and opened it up carefully as if it would explode from the slightest touch.

The first thing I saw was a CCTV flash photo of a crazed guy with a helmet like deer antlers. I knew who it was, and it most certainly was _not _just a crazy guy. Nearly everyone knew who Loki was, after the events in Struttguard and the alien invasion in New York, yeah, Loki was a _big _name, and that's not even including the myths. Still, many people had a grudge against the Norse god, not me though, yes he had almost taking over the world and many people died...but come on, he's the god of mischief, it's in his title for crying out loud!

I sort of understood what Phil was saying, it was just the strangeness of it that made my mouth drop open as I skimmed over the front page, finding most information was blanked out, likely because I had no level clearance, but I managed to get some sort of picture out of the words.

It explained why the alley kid was wearing those clothes, he was clearly an Asguardian too, like Loki and Thor. Hopefully it was another good guy like Thor, maybe the kid was just playing with some voodoo or something and happened to create a portal to Earth.

No luck.

"This particular Asguardian has caused immense trouble on Earth in the past, as I'm sure you know. However, it seems something changed from the last time."

Phil paused, clearly trying to find the right words to say. I looked up as I finished reading, seeing that he was desperately trying to remain professional, a glimmer of humour in his eyes.

"From what we have established from the _alley kid _as you called him, is that he used a spell to escape Asgard, however it went wrong and..."

Phil wavered a hand to the photos of Loki. I stared at him dumbly for about five seconds.

And then I burst out laughing.

I couldn't help myself, the idea that the all powerful god of mischief had fallen victim to his own spell, thus being turned into a kid. It was funny, the whole _revenge is a dish best served cold _just kept running around in my head, because the god definitely deserved some sort of payback from what he did on Earth.

But then Phil spoke again, his words changing my life from that moment on.

"He recognised you, well, he explained reluctantly how a _mortal _had harshly pulverised into him, S.H.I.E.L.D did most of the connect the dots and found you fitted the description given. Director Fury himself, the sole leader of S.H.I.E.L.D, has requested for you to _show him our ways _as it were." Phil explained, actually amused by the horror on my face.

In truth my jaw was open yet again and I was as pale as any piece of blank paper, wondering if there was a pause button that I could press to just make everything stop. I didn't want to meet him, I didn't want to be part of S.H.I.E.L.D, I just wanted to learn how to hack goddamn it!

"Wha?" I asked, the poor grammar simply because I was processing everything at once. In my head I was thinking over how Phil was my dad, Loki the god of mischief was the alley kid I had abandoned, and why wasn't Mom wondering where I was?

I had no inkling as to what the time was, but surely the school would have at least left a voicemail stating a couple of professional looking people had taking her son, i.e me, out of school and they had no idea where I was. Surely she would be frantic, or the school honestly didn't give a damn if one of their students was kidnapped, it wouldn't surprise me honestly.

"S.H.I.E.L.D wouldn't normally let someone so young interact with a war criminal such as Loki, but under the circumstances, we have no other alternative." Phil said half-heartily, as if he didn't agree with it in the slightest.

I didn't like how this was the second time he'd said _under the circumstances_, like I had no other choice but to be a participant in this situation, even though I had done nothing wrong, how was I to know that some Norse god would choose that one spot to appear after escaping from Asgard? I didn't know, thus I shouldn't have been forced to get involved, but apparently this _Director Fury _was someone that you always had to follow orders from, no matter the consequences of said orders.

"I'm in no way agreeing to this, but, what exactly do you mean by _showing him our ways_? You want me to babysit him or something?"

I meant it as a joke, purposely snorting at the preposterous notion. But then Phil grinned with a chuckle, liking my choice of words.

"I guess yes, that is what we are asking from you, just until Thor or another Asguardian preferably turns up to take him back." Phil said, as if there was a chance that they _wouldn't _come back and pick up the mischievous god.

Suddenly I became hysterical, wanting this to just be a bad joke and have all my classmates jump out of the corners and shout _surprise _at me. But no, this wasn't just some very well organised joke, this was all very, very, very real.

"Nope, nope, nope. I am not babysitting a Norse god who incidentally tried to take over the Earth two years ago!" I exclaimed, really wanting the comfort of home, mainly my game console.

"If this was under other circumstances-" Phil tried, but I immediately interrupted him.

"Stop saying that! I don't care about other circumstances, I'm not doing it, end of." I said firmly, banging a fist on the table for emphasis, which was an idiotic act and also caused me a large amount of agony.

My brash act surprised Phil, but he merely stared at me, eyes wide with a straight line for a mouth. I was angry, I didn't want to be used, I wanted to _go home_. When the pain on my fist pulsed, I clasped it in the other and massaged it, immediately regretting the released rage.

"I want the truth." I whispered, almost hissing.

"Why am I here _now_?"

Phil never took his eyes off me, his mind mulling over everything he could or should have said. He opened his mouth, and the words that spilled out were the words of a father.

"Because I want a chance to know you, make up for the time I've missed. I know I won't ever be a dad that'll get you up in the morning, tell you to do your homework, or play video games with you. But I can learn. I can learn how to be a dad, atop being a level eight agent of S.H.I.E.L.D, you have to understand that S.H.I.E.L.D will always be a part of me. If you can give me a chance, then you will have to give S.H.I.E.L.D a chance." He said, the speech something that I couldn't help but listen to every word, take in every possible interpretation as I thought over what he was asking of me.

If I wanted my dad, then I would have to want S.H.I.E.L.D too.

Why couldn't my dad just be a postman?

With a heavy sigh, I took in the room. It seemed so plain and yet detailed, grey walls but they seemed slick and shiny like polished shoes. Even the table, the same apparently basic grey but it seemed expertly designed as only tiny scratches appeared embedded in the surface.

I was delaying my answer, because I didn't even want to say it, but then again I did.

"If you promise, that Mom won't ever find out, that she'll think this is just like extra work towards my grades or something. You have to promise she won't get hurt or taken by some rogue government or spies." I said, telling my terms firmly.

They seemed fair, I didn't care what happened to me, no that's a lie I do care, but Mom being safe is more important than anything. She may not say it often, but I know, she loves me and I'll always keep her in the dark about S.H.I.E.L.D. Even now one year on she doesn't know, but it is _not _easy lying to her face everyday, one day I'll blurt it out...that'll be an interesting day.

"I can't..." He stuttered, eyes casting to the one-way glass, as if getting orders from the people on the other side.

"If you can't promise, then there is no point in me being here." I spoke lowly, certain that if this promise were to be broken in the future, then I would not get involved. Phil licked his lips, studying me, seeing that there was no way around the promise, though I could tell he didn't want to lie to me anyway.

"S.H.I.E.L.D will make sure-" he started, but then once again I opened my big mouth and let terms spill out like I knew this game.

"I don't want S.H.I.E.L.D's promises, I want _your _promises." I said flatly, beginning to feel the strain of the day's events making my eyelids heavy. I watched as Phil placed a finger to his ear, like Agent Hill before, but then his face hardened and he swiftly pulled the earpiece out. He made sure he had my full attention, never blinking as he stared at me, which was pretty creepy.

"I promise, I will do whatever I can to make sure Jessica-your mother won't ever be compromised."

So with all the formal words out, he was promising to make sure Mom would never be in danger, no, he was promising he would do anything to make sure she wouldn't get hurt, but that wasn't definite. With a long pause of consideration, I nodded my weary head, reluctantly agreeing to babysit the god of mischief.

"Okay, so when do I meet the mischief maker?" I asked humorously, half wanting to not meet him and half wanting to get it over with. With his smile back again, Phil took the file and proceeded to stand, to which I copied and did the same and bashed my knee against the table. It twanged, confirming it was metal, and it bloody hurt. I hissed, closing my mouth to stop curses flying out.

Clearly this was nothing, Phil noticing my mild pain and asking absentmindedly if I was okay. I rubbed the spot on my trousers where the impact had been, it feeling quite tender under the fabric.

"Peachy." I grumbled, following Phil as he walked out of the room. I was expecting a long walk towards a cell or a big playroom with robot security guards blocking every exit so little Loki didn't so much as put one toe over the line. But no. We stopped after one step and faced a door _right next to the room I was in_. It didn't take me long to figure it out, and my cheeks blushed red as I realised what the one-way mirror was for.

"He heard everything didn't he?" I mumbled, really wishing I hadn't laughed out loud when Phil told me the alley kid was a mini Loki. Phil pressed his lips together, clearly trying not to let a bigger grin rise onto his face, but I could see he found this comical.

"We thought it best for him to see you before you saw him, wanting his verdict first." Phil explained, which actually made me quite pissed.

_Verdict? I wasn't good enough for the little brat?_

I remember thinking, and the truth was I wasn't, I was just some measly little mortal to the relatively ancient Norse god. And he never lets me forget that, that he is more important than me, I really hate the little...

Phil gripped the door handle, but his face turned to me, silently asking whether I was ready to do this. I nodded my head, my palms sweaty again though I didn't have a reason why, well I did, I was about to meet a god that tried to rule the world, and incidentally I had abandoned in the bitterly storm. Not the best first impression, I just hoped that S.H.I.E.L.D had a plan if Loki tried to attack me, I really didn't want to end up as a pile of blood on the floor.

With one thrust Phil opened the door, but he didn't go in, he merely moved to the side slightly so I could walk in. With a large intake of breath, I took one step and entered the room with the god of mischief.

There was no metal table or chairs like in the other one, there was in fact no furniture at all, just the same grey walls. But I wasn't honestly focusing on the furniture, I was focusing on the boy that had propped himself up against the opposite wall. His legs were placed close to his chest, hiding most of his features, but then I saw a leather bound book was placed atop his knees, hiding his face completely.

Not what I was expecting.

He was still wearing the same clothes as yesterday, though they were dry without any frail in the material. I really didn't want to disturb him, I could have quite easily walked out without him noticing me. But then Phil closed the door sharply, little Loki popping his head above the book.

_Phil you douchebag_...

I had muttered inside my head, though I had to remember that _I_ agreed to this.

Loki studied me, if unamused, and then promptly resumed to his reading as if I had not even entered the room. So, first impressions were terrible...great. I tried a more social approach, stepping a few more steps towards the Norse god, finding that he still refused to look up from the book.

"Hey." I greeted, though I realised that I should have used more formal talk, seeing as Loki was likely brought up with such proper posh manners and cultures. This was proved as he blatantly refused to answer. I hate posh snobs who stick their noses up at people, and Loki was no different.

"This is probably a really bad situation for you, but erm, on earth, people usually say hello when they first meet someone." I said, rather a snarky comment but it seemed a good answer, seeing as I was supposed to teach Loki _our ways_.

"I don't care for midguardian cultures nor customs. And I certainly won't greet someone who will not apologise for severely injuring me." He countered almost immediately, green eyes glaring at me for a second before returning back to his elderly book.

When I say elderly, I mean it looked like it needed a walking frame, or was used to being fed mashed up pieces of paper. Also, the cover of the leather book held weird symbols, only one I recognised as being a serpent or thin dragon.

"Severely injured my ass, you bumped into _me_." I replied rudely, but it seemed Loki didn't understand it all that well, raising an eyebrow, giving me a look that said _why am I in the presence of such a peasant?_

I really hate posh people.

With me closing my eyes and forcing myself to remain fair-headed, I forced the words out of my mouth in a seething tone.

"I'm sorry for _severely injuring _you. Now will you _greet _me?" I asked sarcastically, figuring out quite quickly that this wasn't a good duo, in fact it was worse than bad, because it wasn't even a duo at all.

With a slightly disturbing mischievous gleam in his eyes, Loki shut the book gently, resting it to the side of him. I was thinking he was going to stand up and do a bow or touch noses, whatever greeting there was on Asgard. Instead he flicked his hand stiffly but expertly, green tinged spirals collecting around said hand. I was really confused, until I felt the ticklish feeling of a hairy leg whispering by my ear. I yelped as a huge tarantula leisurely clambered around my neck. I thwarted it away with a hand, hearing the little _thump _as it hit the ground.

I hate tarantulas, small spiders are fine, but keep the fucking big ones away from me.

Loki cackled, clutching his sides at my reaction, finding it quite amusing. I glared at him angrily, already finding the brat irritating. When his laughing fit was moderately done, he wavered the hand again and the tarantula disappeared. Loki held onto his snickers as I clenched my hands at my sides, really trying to keep the words in my head from spilling out.

"I am Loki of Asgard, and you scream like a newly born baby!" He exclaimed with a grin on his face. Redness bloomed on my cheeks yet again, my eyes catching a security camera in the corner above Loki. I glowered at it, tempted to give it the finger because it had captured me screaming because of a spider.

"Please can I change my mind?" I muttered to myself, because I knew there was no going back as Loki ended his snickers and returned to his book. His eyes were glued to every word and I realised that it must have been a book of magic, he was finding new ways to prank me.

I hate kids.

I hate _Norse god_ kids.

But I had to admit, he was a good prankster, able to determine what fear would be best, especially with someone he had just met, namely me. Or simply he was good at guesswork, picking a random spell to test me.

I simply remained as a stature, studying little Loki as he skimmed through the spells I couldn't see. His hair was short her than I imagined, still relatively greasy in a shiny way, but the messy look suited him. He honestly reminded me of a young Harry Potter, minus the goofy glasses and the prominent lightening scar, and of course Loki would likely belong in Slytherin , due to his fascination with the colour green. If that was even a fascination, it could just be part of the myths we interpreted, and the gods merely went with our quirky stories,

Was this really the destructive god Loki? I mean, he's a kid, technically, even if he was equipped with a spell book.

"I get it okay. Being kept by the people that stopped your attempt to take over the earth two years ago can't be glamorous. But I'm not them, I only found out about any if this a couple of hours ago." I said, shrugging my shoulders as if this was nothing. But then everything suddenly felt really cold, Loki's eyebrows creasing as his eyes and nose appeared above the spell book.

"Pardon? I have never been to Midgard before." He stared slowly, giving me a _are you a madman look? _

Ah, I realised I had just thrown myself into a pit of green snakes. Either Loki was playing dumb which I thought would be too insulting for him, or this spell amnestied him as well, and I had just told him that he nearly took over a place he believed he had never been too.

Yep, I was really terrible at this babysitting lark.

~ Signed Alex Moore

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**Im hoping loki isn't too OOC, I'm trying to base him off the comic version, but keeping the film version as well. Hopefully it's working okay. That's all for now, please review!**

**~Gothgirlstrikesagain**


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